


Anything

by nyghtmare



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:42:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10531029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyghtmare/pseuds/nyghtmare
Summary: Marcus is feeling down and Wrench wants to cheer him up.





	

Wrench frowned beneath his mask though the LCD screen stayed blank, no default x’s. He’d been watching Marcus for the better part of the last two hours and the hipster had been rather withdrawn. He wasn’t one to usually notice emotions, but he’d always been rather attuned to Marcus’s even when the hipster was trying to hide it.

He set down his screw driver and moved over the couch, resting his hand on the hipster’s shoulder he nodded to the door before silently moving away and up the stairs. He made his way down the street and around the block to a nearby coffee shop where he waited for the hipster.

Wrench had already ordered two coffees when Marcus arrived. One was nursed in the punk’s tattooed hands while the other sat waiting for Marcus.

Marcus smiled slightly as he dropped down into the booth beside Wrench. He reached for the coffee, the back of his hand brushing the anarchist’s and he paused looking at the pale, tattooed skin. He loved Wrench’s hands and the contrast of his tattoos.

The anarchist moved a hand off the coffee and slid it into Marcus’s hand. His fingers threaded between the hipster’s, letting them rest on the table entwined, but he didn’t say a word. He let Marcus start the conversation.

Marcus was startled from his thoughts as he looked up at the anarchist. Wrench hated public displays of affection, he did have an image to protect after all. He closed his fingers around the anarchist’s hand with another small smile.

“What’s up, M?” Wrench was going to wait, but he was worried.

Marcus shrugged. “Tired.”

“Mhm,” Wrench replied. “That might fool everyone else.”

The hipster sighed. “Just an off day I guess.”

Wrench frowned beneath his mask. “Come on, something’s bothering you. You know I’m not going to judge!”

“My… father is sick,” Marcus said, almost too quiet to hear.

Wrench’s hand squeezed the hipster’s. He frowned beneath his mask, but the screen was blank. He didn’t know what it was like to care for family members like Marcus did, but he knew what it would feel like if Marcus was sick. “I’m sorry, Marcus.”

The hipster shook his head. He was looking at their hands. “I have to go see him, but… I don’t know if I can.”

The punk was quiet for a moment. “Why couldn’t you?”

“I never liked hospitals and to see my father in one…” Marcus trailed off, staring at the probably now-cold cup of coffee still clutched in his free hand.  

“Hey, what if…” Wrench wasn’t used to this or relationships or caring for someone as much as he cared for Marcus. He didn’t know how to properly comfort people especially since his version of comfort was blowing shit up, but he had to try. “What if I went with you? I mean… if you’d really want me there.”

Marcus’s eyes tore away from his coffee and he looked up at Wrench. “You’d do that?”

“I’d do anything for you, M,” the punk replied, voice quiet. He ran his thumb lightly over the back of Marcus’s hand. “If you can bring a punk ass white boy home to your family.” Two carets lit up his mask.

Marcus laughed lightly despite the tears that threatened to fall. He leaned his head against Wrench’s expecting the anarchist to pull away, but he didn’t. “Of course, I’d take you home.”

Wrench smiled beneath the mask, happy to hear the hipster’s laugh even if it was short lived. He leaned back against Marcus. Their coffees had both gone cold and untouched, but neither of them paid much attention to them. “I’ll go if it will help.”

“How do you see through me when no one else does?” Marcus asked softly.

“Because I’m used to hiding,” Wrench replied. “From everyone but you.”

A small smile teased its way onto Marcus’s lips. “Hey, Wrench…?”

“Hm?”

Marcus was silent for a moment, not sure how Wrench would react to what he wanted to say. They had been dating for a while, but he’d always been careful to avoid the subject even if he felt it. “I love you,” he said, voice quieter than a whisper.

The anarchist froze, even with the warmth spreading through himself. He hadn’t expected to hear Marcus ever say it, but he felt the smile pulling at his lips and he was grateful for the mask hiding the look on his face.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know,” Marcus said softly.

“But I do… I mean I— I feel that way too,” Wrench said. “I’m messing this up.”

Marcus laughed softly and kissed the anarchist’s head. Wrench's actions were always bigger than his words. He didn't need to hear Wrench say it to know how the anarchist felt. “It’s okay.”

“But I do too, you know.”

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just meant to be a quick drabble. ~~supposed to be studying~~ I saw a post on tumblr about how Wrench is always the sad one and kind of just wrote up a quick thing. Hope you liked it. Just needed to write! Thanks for reading!


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